


The Boy on the Plains

by VanillaGiddyup



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Rekka no Ken | Fire Emblem: Blazing Sword
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:28:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22537801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanillaGiddyup/pseuds/VanillaGiddyup
Summary: A young man wakes up in a tent after being rescued by a girl from the Plains of Sacae. They set out together to see where their adventures taken them and they find themselves in the midst of a crisis that threatens to tear the world asunder. A novelization of Fire Emblem: The Blazing Sword where Mark never stops being part of the story.
Relationships: Eliwood/Ninian (Fire Emblem), Lyndis/Tactician (Fire Emblem)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	1. Prologue

The first thing he remembered hearing was a voice. That told him he was somewhere silent, or he would've heard other sounds first. He felt warm. That told him he was indoors, since he had a vague memory of the day being windy. He felt comfortable. That told him he was in a bed, since the surface below him was soft. Altogether it told him he had been rescued.

"Are you awake?" was what the voice said. He was, but only just. He blinked twice. "I found you unconscious on the plains," the voice continued. It was a woman's voice. She sounded young, likely close to his age. He opened his eyes further and saw that he was in a tent. He recognized the designas being native to the nomads of Sacae. He looked around until he caught sight of the voice's owner.

It was a girl. She looked to be around his height and—probably—around his age. Her hair was a deep blue-green and was held up in a ponytail that extended most of the way down her back. She was dressed in a blue tunic that he also recognized as being of Sacaen design. She had striking blue eyes that gazed intently at him and sharp features that he could only describe as beautiful.

"I'm Lyn, of the Lorca tribe. You're safe now," she said. Her voice was kind and reassuring. He could tell instantly that she was telling him the truth. There was no malice or deception, there was only genuine concern for the man she had rescued. "Who are you?" she asked. "Can you remember your name?" Of course, he hadn't spoken yet. She was likely worried that he had taken a blow to the head.

"M-Mark," he said. His throat felt rough. He didn't know how long he had been unconscious, but it had clearly been for a while. "My name is Mark. Could I trouble you for some water?" She didn't answer immediately, she simply moved to pick up a flask. Her movements were graceful and he had to fight not to stare.

"Your name is Mark? What an odd sounding name." It wasn't so odd in his home, but she was a nomad of Sacae, so to her ears it likely was. Though, he realized, he wasn't sure where his home was, simply that his name wasn't odd there. "Ah...I'm sorry. Pay me no mind," she said as she handed him the flask of water, "it is a good name." He began to drink and he let her continue. "You look like a traveler. Would you share your story? What brings you to the plains of Sacae?" So she was inquisitive and, as he discerned from her apology, conscientious. He decided he liked Lyn of the Lorca tribe.

"Of course," he said. "I'll share my story. I'm—" his words were cut off by the sounds of shouting from outside the tent.

"Stay here," she said. "I'll go see what's happening." She turned towards the entrance to the tent and he noticed a sword on her hip. He knew that Sacae had a reputation for being mostly wilderness, which likely meant that all the nomads needed to learn to fight. As she left the tent he sat up and swung his legs around. He wasn't a fighter, but he couldn't let his savior deal with whatever was going on by herself. She returned within moments looking worried.

"Is it bandits?" he was guessing from the look on her face, but her reaction to the word told him he was correct.

"They must have come from the Bern mountains to raid the local villages," she said. Her expression faltered and she seemed to take a moment to steel herself. "I...have to stop them."

"How many are out there?"

"Only two," she said. "If that's all I...should be able to handle them on my own. Stay here, Mark. You'll be safe until I'm finished." He stood up. He was shaky, but his head was clear.

"No," he said, "I'll help you. I owe you that much."

"Can you fight?" she asked. He could tell it wasn't a question meant to shame him, simply one of curiosity.

"No, but I'm a strategist by trade. I can see the flow of battle and should be able to direct you." A lot of his memories were missing, but he was sure of that much. He wasn't sure how he was sure, but he was sure. Lyn of the Lorca tribe needed help and he could help.

"That seems an odd profession, but if you can help...very well. Stay with me." She hurried out of the tent. He was still a little shaky, so she moved more quickly than he did and he fell a few steps behind. "Over here!" she called out as he exited the tent. He glanced around and saw that they were indeed on the plains of Sacae. He saw the mountains of Bern to the northeast and a river he knew led to Lycia to the south. He found it odd that the only memories he seemed to lack were those of his past and not his studies, but he knew he didn't have time to wonder.

"I'm with you," he said.

"Please, if you think you can help, give me your advice. And stay close to me. I'll protect you." He was a stranger to her, and yet she didn't hesitate to say it. Yes, he thought, he liked this Lyn of the Lorca tribe.

He stood next to her and looked around to take stock of the battlefield. He did only see two bandits in front of them, one near to them and one further away in front of another tent. He assumed that one was in charge since he seemed to be ordering the other one towards the tent in which Mark had been sleeping. The bandit didn't seem to have noticed them from their position. There was some taller grass surrounding them that likely obscured them enough for the time being.

"I need to be closer to the enemy, Mark," Lyn said. "Follow me."

"Wait," he said, "you should let him come to you. You have surprise on your side."

"I can't," she said, "I need to stop them now." She, despite his advice, ran forward out of the grass. He didn't want to leave, but he also couldn't afford to stay on his own. He fell in line a step behind her. The bandit spotted them, shouted, and began to charge. "Let's close in and attack!" she called to Mark. He decided that taking the initiative was likely their best course of action.

"I agree," he said quickly. "Draw your sword and be ready. You should have the advantage over him with his axe, so strike quickly when he begins to swing."

"I'm ready," she said. He noticed a slight tremble to her voice. He guessed that she had never seen a real fight before. The bandit rushed forward with a cry and swung his axe. Lyn was able to slide out of the way and she struck with her sword. The bandit roared in pain but Lyn was able to strike him again in his midsection before he could react. He reeled back and seemed to ready himself. "Stay behind me," she said over her shoulder. He could see that her sword was unsteady. The bandit was a much larger man than either of them and Mark himself felt the hair on his neck stand on end.

The bandit swung his axe down at Lyn again. Lyn attempted to block his strike, but his size advantage and her wavering hand caused his strike to land a blow against her midsection. She let out a cry of pain and stumbled back, but recovered in time to strike him again. The bandit grunted and his body sagged to the ground. The axe fell from his hand and he didn't rise.

"Are you alright, Mark?" She asked him in between heavy breaths.

"I am," he said, but you're hurt. Do you have a vulnerary or bandages?"

"I have some In my satchel." She handed it to him. "Find them while we move closer." He started digging through it while they advanced. Lyn was clearly in pain but she didn't slow down. He found the medicine and handed it forward to her. She stopped to drink it and he could see her posture change as it began to take effect. "Thank you. Give me a moment before we go take on the bandit by the ger." He assumed that was the name for the tents.

"How badly were you hurt?" He could see that her hands had steadied, but there was blood down the side of her tunic. "Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine," she said as she handed him back the vulnerary. "Let's move." She barely gave him time to store the bottle before she was off towards the bandit. The man saw them approaching and raised his weapon. He was much larger than Lyn, with blond hair and scars all over his face and arms. Mark could tell that this was not a man who had ever attempted an honest life.

"Who do you think you are?" the man called. His voice was as rough as his appearance. "You think you can stand up to Batta the Beast?"

"I'll stop you!" Lyn shouted and charged at him. She managed to land a blow on his arm, but her momentum carried her too far forward and Mark could see that she was vulnerable. He called out to her but wasn't in time and the man called Batta struck her with his axe near her midsection where the other bandit had hit her. She cried out in pain but managed to stumble back and out of Batta's reach. He raised his weapon and started to advance towards them.

"We need to retreat," said Mark, "you're hurt."

"No," she said, "there's no time. Mark, if I fall, flee."

"I won't—" Batta charged and swung down at Lyn. Gathering up her remaining strength, she tumbled to one side and nearly fell to the ground. She sprung back up and stabbed at Batta. His attack had left him open and her sword found purchase under his arm. She withdrew it and Mark saw that its tip was stained with blood. Batta tried to raise his axe to defend himself, but his injury slowed him down. Lyn was faster. She brought down her sword on his weapon hand and her attack caused the axe to fall to the ground. She struck again at him one, twice, three times in a flash. Batta grunted and sank to his knees.

"What? How...How did you..." He fell on his face in the grass. Lyn sagged to one knee and Mark rushed forward to support her. He pulled the vulnerary out of the bag again and passed it to her. She used her free hand to drink from it.

"Phew...it's over," she said. "I underestimated them." She looked at him with a pained expression. "Sorry to worry you. I guess I need to get stronger if I'm going to survive." Mark found that a bit odd considering she was part of a tribe. Surely there would be no reason for a woman that young to need to survive alone. He decided against asking her about it until she was feeling better. He lifted her to her feet. He wasn't the strongest of men, but Lyn wasn't heavy.

"Let's get back to your hut," he said.

"Indeed. Thank you for your help, Mark." He decided against answering for fear that she would try to keep talking. She was hurt and needed rest. He continued to support her on his shoulder as they made their way back to her hut. It took much longer to return than it had taken to get there, but he didn't complain and Lyn didn't speak.

Once they made it back he let her sit on a chair by the bed as he found a cloth and some water. He handed them to her. She took them and started to clean her wounds.

"Are there bandages and fresh clothes anywhere?" he asked.

"Clothes are in that chest," she said, indicating one sitting opposite the entrance, "and there are bandages in that bag." He opened the chest and saw a tunic that appeared identical to the one she was wearing, as well as some heavier clothes and some clothes that made him glance away as his face started to heat up. He pulled out the tunic and handed it to her, then moved over to the bag she had pointed to. He found a cloth bandage and handed that to her as well.

"I'll be outside," he said. He couldn't bring himself to look directly at her.

"It's fine," she said. Her tone suggested that this was not a shameful situation for her, or perhaps she simply wasn't thinking clearly through the injury.

"Not to me." He stepped out into the late afternoon air. It was a windy day, but his robes protected him from the cold. He looked over the stretch of plains towards the ger at the bodies of the two bandits. He was a strategist, not a fighter. If this was the sort of problem the Sacae nomads had to deal with, he would need help. He wanted to ask Lyn, but she was so young. Not that he was old, or at least he assumed he wasn't, but it wasn't proper to ask a young woman to be his escort, not when she had already been hurt on his behalf.

"I'm done," came Lyn's voice from inside the hut. He turned and stepped back in. Her torn clothes were in a pile next to the chair and she was sitting up. It looked like she wasn't in pain anymore, or at least not as much. He got the impression she didn't like to show weakness.

"Are you feeling better?"

"I'll be fine, though I think I'd like to go to sleep. I'm exhausted." It wasn't surprising. Mark remembered reading that armed combat was one of the most taxing things someone could do.

"I understand," he said as he turned started to glance around the tent, "do you have a spare bedroll for me?" She shook her head and stood up before walking across the hut to the chest her clothes had been stored in.

"I do, but I'll use it. You sleep on the bed once you're ready." She pulled out the bedroll and unrolled it on the floor of the hut.

"No no, I couldn't," he said.

"You're my guest. I would never ask a guest to sleep in worse conditions than my own."

"Lyn, you're hurt. I can't—"

"I insist," she said more forcefully. He put his hands up in surrender and she nodded.

"I'll be outside," he said. "I'll try not to make noise when I come back." She settled herself in on the mat and closed her eyes. He stepped back out onto the plains. The sun was beginning to set below the horizon which bathed the grassy plains in amber light. It was growing cooler, but Mark decided to stay outside until nightfall. He wasn't sure if he'd ever been here to Sacae before, but he knew this was a sight he would remember forever.

Despite the battle, it had been a better day than he thought it would be when he woke in a strange bed in a strange land. He didn't remember what led him here to the plains, but he was glad he had been able to meet Lyn of the Lorca tribe. Even if they would be separated in the morning, he would never forget her.

He sat down and watched the sunset. He heard the sounds of birds and wolves in the distance as day became night. He briefly considered starting a fire, but decided against it. It wouldn't be safe to look around for wood and he didn't know if Lyn had flint or tinder. Even if she did it would mean rummaging around her tent while she was asleep, which would wake her up at worst and be a violation of her privacy at best. No, he decided a fire wasn't necessary. Instead, once the stars appeared in the night sky and the air became too cold he slipped back into the hut. Lyn was sleeping peacefully so he stayed as silent as he could on his way to the bed. He pulled the covers over himself and his head had hardly touched the pillow when his consciousness faded.

"—ood morning, Mark! Are you awake yet?" He blinked several times and rubbed his eyes. He sat up and saw that Lyn was already dressed and had two plates of simple breakfast foods in her hands. She offered one to him and he took it. "The fighting must have taken a lot out of you." He chewed on some bread then washed it down with some water before he answered.

"You were the one who was fighting. I'm surprised it didn't take more out of you." She shrugged.

"I'm awake now and my wounds are healed." She paused for a moment to eat some of her own food and it seemed to Mark like she was thinking something over. "Mark, I'd like to ask you something."

"Hmm?"

"It was clear to me that you have some experience in the ways of war, and I expect that you plan to continue your travels today now that you've recovered. Would you...allow me to join you?" He chewed thoughtfully on some dried meat.

"The truth is, I don't remember if I have experience in the ways of war. I don't remember much about myself beyond my studies. I studied strategy, but I don't know if I have ever used it in a war. And besides, my travels could be dangerous. This seems like the kind of decision you should speak to your parents about before you ask me." Her expression darkened.

"My...my mother and father died six months ago. In fact...the entire Lorca tribe...I'm the only one left." Mark felt a pang of guilt and stood up to get closer to her.

"Lyn, I'm sorry. I didn't..."

"You couldn't have known. There was a bandit attack..." That explained her attitude towards the bandits from the previous day. "So many were..." her voice trailed off, though Mark noticed that there were no tears in her eyes.

"You...you're sure there are no others?" She shook her head.

"The survivors...my father was the chieftain. They were an old-fashioned tribe. The few who survived wouldn't follow a woman." She sniffed and he realized that she was forcing back a sob even without tears. He started to stretch his hand out to comfort her, but let it fall. He knew he shouldn't try to act so familiar even if he wanted to. "I'm sorry," she said, "but I've been alone for so long..." She finally started to cry. It wasn't much, but it was obviously happening. He looked away, for her sake.

"I'm sorry," he said. He glanced back at her and saw her shake her head.

"No. No more tears." She was silent for several moments. "...Thank you. I've recovered now. Mark, whether your travels will be dangerous or not, I must go with you. I need to become stronger." She clenched one hand into a fist. "I will avenge my parents." Her voice was firm and cold. "I learned something yesterday. I won't become stronger by myself. That's why I want, no, why I need to go with you. Tell me you'll train me. Tell me we can travel together." Her resolve finally won him over.

"I'm not a swordsman," he said, "but I do know strategy and tactics. If you think that will help you, then yes, we can travel together." He needed an escort, and she needed a teacher or, at the very least, a friend. Besides, she had saved his life. It was the least he could do.

"Thank you! Oh, thank you so much!" She lunged forward and hugged him around his neck. It was so sudden and so brief he didn't even have time to be embarrassed about it. "We'll be better off together, I just know it! You'll be my master strategist, and I'll be your peerless warrior! We can do it, right?" Her enthusiasm was so infectious that he felt himself smile.

"We can do it," he said.

Yes, he liked Lyn of the Lorca tribe.


	2. Chapter 2

The two of them spoke very little over the next two days. Lyn had told him they needed to travel to a town called Bulgar in order to prepare for their travels, and the pace she kept meant Mark had to struggle to keep up. It was obvious she was more used to traveling than he was. He wasn't sure how far and wide he had traveled before, but clearly if he had it was by horse or cart, not on foot. That said, he didn't mind. Even without extensive conversation, she was pleasant company. It was nice to have a traveling companion, and he had to admit to himself that it was nice that his was a pretty woman his own age.

As soon as Bulgar came into view, Lyn took off at a run towards the town square. He increased his pace to try to catch her, but she was clearly much more used to physical exertion, because he was left trailing far behind. He wanted to call after her, but the strain of traveling and running after her left him out of breath.

"Mark! Over here!" he heard her yell. He had no idea where she got so much energy. He caught sight of her in the middle of the bustling square. She waved to him and he walked to her as quickly as he could manage. He nearly bumped into a few people, but if they noticed they didn't say anything. "This is Bulgar, the largest city in all of Sacae," she said as he reached her. Once again her enthusiasm was so great that he found himself smiling. She sounded so excited to be showing him the town. "We should buy supplies before we set off." They hadn't decided on a destination, but they knew they were going to be traveling all around.

"That sound like a good—" he was cut off by a man's voice from behind them.

"Oh, my heart! What a dazzling vision of loveliness!" They could hear his voice over the noise of the crowd and Mark could tell instantly that it was directed at Lyn. Lyn blinked and turned towards the source of the voice, which turned out to be a brown-haired man in green armor. He pushed through the crowd to reach the two of them and it appeared the people he passed were trying very hard to ignore him. Lyn made a noncommittal noise and began to turn to leave. The man called again. "Wait, beauteous one!" He reached them. "Would you not share your name with me? Or, better yet, your company?" Mark decided to intervene, but before he could speak Lyn beat him to it.

"Where do you come from, sir knight, that you would speak in this way to a stranger?" Mark closed his mouth. Clearly Lyn didn't need his help.

"I feared you would never ask!" said the man. "I am from Lycia! I hail from Caelin canton, home to men of passion and fire!" Mark rolled his eyes, but now that he knew that Lyn could handle herself, he stayed quiet.

"Shouldn't that be 'home to callow oafs with loose tongues'?" Mark bit back a laugh at her words and the hurt expression that crossed the man's face. He seemed to recover quickly though, which Mark found disappointing.

"You're even lovely when you're cruel," he said. Lyn shot Mark a glance and made a disgusted noise.

"Let's go, Mark," she said.

"Indeed," said Mark and the two of them turned and left the man sputtering in protest behind them. They made for a nearby shop that sold dried meats and fruits. Mark waited until they were alone browsing the selection before he spoke again. "What a boor that man was." Lyn shook her head.

"I haven't been to Lycia before, but I hope he wasn't typical of the men they employ as knights." She selected several pieces of dried beef and venison as well as some dried fruits Mark didn't recognize but Lyn seemed to.

"Hopefully not," said Mark. "I seem to recall hearing that the knights of the Lycian League are known for being honorable, though I'm sure it varies from man to man." Mark picked up some food of his own and they paid with some of the gold Mark had found in his belongings. "So do you have a destination in mind once we depart Bulgar?"

"There is a shrine not far from here. It's our tradition to pray at it before departing on a journey." They exited the shop and entered a neighboring one that sold tents and blankets. They hadn't been able to carry Lyn's hut between the two of them and Lyn had decided she didn't want to sleep somewhere with the memories attached to that hut.

"Very well," said Mark. He didn't recall worshiping the same gods as the nomads of Sacae, but it wouldn't hurt him to join her, especially since it meant more time in her company. "Does it matter if our tents match?" It wasn't a pertinent question, but he wanted to make conversation.

"Do we need two tents?"

"I don't think it would be proper to share," he said. They were a man and a woman the same age. He was surprised she was so carefree about it.

"I trust you, Mark," she said. "Besides, you aren't a warrior. I'm sure I could stop you from trying anything." He saw a smile on her face and realized she was teasing him. He tried not to let it bother him.

"Even so," he said, "it wouldn't be right. These tents don't look large enough to give us sufficient room between us if we shared." There were some larger tents than the ones they were looking at, but they were much more expensive and likely would be much harder to carry.

"You make a fair point," she said. "Very well, we'll buy two." She picked up two tents with matching designs on the cloth and brought them to the shopkeeper, a friendly older woman. They chatted briefly before Lyn returned to Mark with their equipment packed into two satchels. She handed him one and he slung it over his shoulder.

"Shall we?" he asked, motioning for her to leave first. She did and they exited the shop.

"I think that's all we need," she said, "the shrine is this way." She pointed and he followed her. The knight from earlier was in front of them. A second knight in red armor was with him, and they were both mounted and blocking the exit to the town. They were engaged in a conversation Mark couldn't hear, but he could see that the knight in red looked exasperated. "Excuse me!" Lyn called out, "you're blocking the road! If would to please move your horses we would like to depart." The knight in red, whose hair matched his armor, was the one who answered.

"My apologies," he said with a slight bow. He nudged his horse and it took two steps back to clear a space for the two of them.

"Thank you," said Lyn as she motioned for Mark to follow, "at least you seem honorable enough." She shot a glare at the other knight. The knight glanced at his companion, then back to Lyn, then at Mark, then he did a double take at Lyn.

"Excuse me, milady, but for some reason I feel as though we have met before..." his voice trailed off. Mark stopped short next to Lyn and looked up at the knights. He got the impression this man wasn't as boorish as his companion, but even so he seemed very forward to speak to her that way. Mark clenched and unclenched a hand.

"I beg your pardon?" said Lyn. She had stopped, but she crossed her arms and edged away from the knight which carried her a bit closer to Mark.

"No fair, Kent!" said the knight in green. "I saw her first!" Lyn made another disgusted sound and Mark had to stop himself from wheeling on the other man.

"It seems there are no decent men among Lycia's knights after all!" she said to Mark. She grabbed his wrist and pulled him past the two men towards the city exit. "Mark, I've run out of patience. Let's go." She started walking but Mark was right in step with her so he avoided being pulled off balance. They nearly ran out of the city and Mark heard the knights arguing as they departed. Mark couldn't understand much of it, though he distinctly heard the red-haired knight say "I am NOT you!"

They reached the city limits before Lyn let go of Mark's wrist. She didn't say a word, but Mark could tell that she was still fuming. It was understandable after the behavior of the knights, but still he wished he could say something to help calm her down. Instead he simply kept up with her as they made their way south out of the city. Soon after, Mark heard movement to the east and south.

"Lyn, do you hear that?" She stopped and started to listen.

"I do. We're being pursued. Run!" Weighed down as he was by their supplies, Mark wasn't able to run as fast as usual, but even so he kept pace with her. "Is it the knights from the town?" she asked over her shoulder to him.

"No!" he called back. "No horses!" he started looking all around them to see who it was and saw the forms of large men with axes. "Bandits!"

"They're out for blood!" she called back. One of the bandits to the east ran towards them and stopped at the opposite end of a stream.

"Well well, look what we have here!" said the bandit. "Your name is Lyndis, is it not?" Lyn stopped short and Mark nearly collided with her.

"What did you call me? Who are you?" her hand fell immediately to the hilt of her sword.

"What a waste of a perfectly pretty girl," said the bandit. He shook his head. "The things I do for gold. Time to die, Lyndis." He took his axe from a strap on his back and brandished it. Mark looked around and saw several other bandits emerge from the trees around them. He took a quick count and saw five total. Lyn took out her sword.

"This may be more of them than I can handle," she said over her shoulder to him. "Mark, if you want to run I won't think less of you." He stood behind her.

"I'm not leaving your side," he said.

"Thank you," she said. She sounded relieved. He wasn't going to abandon her to die. They would figure out something. One of the bandits started to approach and Lyn readied her sword to fight.

"There she is!" came a voice from behind them.

"What?" said Lyn without looking back. She was too focused on the bandits in front of them. It took a moment for the next sound to reach them, but Mark recognized it immediately. It was the stampede of hooves. A few moments later the two knights from Lycia thundered up next to them and took up positions on either side of Lyn and Mark.

"You there!" called the knight in green, "What is your business? Such numbers against a single girl? Cowards, the lot of you!"

"You!" said Lyn

"Stay back, milady," said the knight in red. "If these bandits want a fight, they can look at me!"

"I'll take care of this!" said the knight in green.

"No! Stay out of my way! This is my fight!" said Lyn.

"We need their help, Lyn," said Mark. He respected her attitude, but they needed to keep a realistic view. She wasn't going to win against five and these were armored men on horseback. They could easily turn the tide of the battle.

"I have a solution," said the knight in red. He pointed to Mark. "You. Command us. My name is Kent, my companion is Sain. We will obey your orders, will we not, Sain?" Sain nodded a little sheepishly. "Is that acceptable, milady?" Lyn glanced back at Mark, then to Kent.

"Yes. I'll trust Mark's judgment. Let's go!" The bandits, now deprived of their large numerical advantage, backed off. The leader retreated a few paces behind his fellows and several took up positions within the cover of trees.

"You there!" said the knight in green, "you are called Mark, yes? Allow me to attack first!"

"Very well," said Mark. He figured he needed to get a good idea of the knights' combat abilities, so allowing Sain to attack first would help serve that purpose. He pointed to the closest bandit. "That man, run him down." He pointed to Kent. "Flank the bandit from the other side." Mark's words were partially drowned out as Sain went charging heedlessly forward, lance in hand, and thrust at the bandit. The bandit ducked behind a tree and dodged Sain's thrust. He struck out at Sain and caught his outer thigh. Blood appeared through the fabric of Sain's trouser leg and he yelped in pain. Kent charged from the other direction and swung his sword in an arc from behind the bandit. It took him across the back and the bandit grunted and fell to his knees. He lashed out, but Kent was already past and circling around again.

"What's your call, Mark?" asked Lyn.

"Finish him off," said Mark. She nodded and charged. The bandit wasn't back on his feet before Lyn arrived, and a stroke of her sword ensured he would never rise again. Mark saw Kent ride to Sain's side and pass him a spare sword. Sain must have neglected to carry one with him or else had dropped or forgotten it in town, Mark thought. It was good of Kent to give him one. The sword's speed would serve him well against the bandits and their axes.

Two of the bandits attempted to advance on them from across the stream. One was coming from the north and one from the south. A third was behind the bandit from the south and would likely catch up quickly. That would be an even fight in terms of numbers, but Mark wanted to prevent his allies' attention from being divided in two directions.

"Kent, Sain, to the south. Cut off that one and prepare for the second behind him. Lyn, take the one coming from the north." The knights saluted and kicked their horses to get them to move. They charged off to intercept the bandit rushing at them from the south while Lyn turned north. Mark, not wanting to be left alone on a battlefield, was a step behind Lyn.

"The trees should give me some cover, right?" She said without looking back.

"Yes, get into the copse before the bandit arrives and you should have the advantage," he answered. She did manage to reach the cover of a tangle of trees before the bandit could, and the two of them hid within some of the lower-hanging branches. Once Lyn had set herself she looked back to the knights. They were circling the bandit without allowing him to focus on one of them for long enough. Whatever Mark thought of Sain's attitude, they were clearly disciplined and coordinated with one another.

"Your name is Sain, yes?" he heard Lyn call. "You've been hurt. You should heal yourself." Sain charged at the bandit, swung his sword, missed as the bandit ducked around a tree, and ran away to swing around for another attack. He looked at his leg when he heard Lyn's words, then over to the two of them.

"Ah, I've made you darken your lovely features with worry. Please, if you've a vulnerary, share it with me." Mark rolled his eyes as Lyn answered him.

"On second thought, you're fine. Focus on the fighting." Sain started towards them.

"No! I must not cause you any worry!"

"Mark," Lyn said in a low voice, "Get the vulnerary from my pack and give it to him." The bandit was closing quickly. Mark reached into the pack over her shoulder, found the fresh vulnerary she was carrying, and pulled it out. Sain was only a few feet away so Mark tossed the phial to him. Sain's face fell as he caught the potion and drank a portion.

"Handle the bandits from the south!" said Mark. Sain nodded and turned back to assist his comrade. Kent, Mark saw, was clashing with the bandit and appeared to have the upper hand. He was clearly skilled with the sword and had seen his share of combat.

The bandit reached them and let out a cry. Lyn slid behind the trunk of a tree and lashed out with her sword. She caught the bandit's axe arm and made a deep enough gash that his axe fell from his hand. He stumbled back to try to get away from her follow up attack, but she was too quick for him. Her sword struck home in his chest and he toppled backwards. He let out a gasp and didn't rise.

"Good job," said Mark as he looked quickly away and towards the remaining bandits. "We should try to take on the leader. The knights can handle the other two." Lyn nodded sharply and they rushed past the fallen bandit towards the small bridge on the stream. It was sturdy enough to hold the both of them and Lyn approached the bandit leader with her sword up. He was grumbling about the knights when he saw them and charged. Lyn parried his first attack, struck him with a quick stab to the midsection, and fell back a few steps. He winced in pain and touched his wound to check for blood. When he saw it he cursed and raised his weapon for another attack.

Lyn put her sword up to block the bandit's blow but the force of it knocked her sword aside long enough for the bandit to lash out with his free fist. He drove it into her midsection and she grunted in pain. She stumbled back and bumped into Mark which nearly caused her to lose her balance and fall. Mark, on instinct, put his hand against her back to keep her steady. She put her left hand against her side when the bandit had punched her and held up her sword with her right hand. It was shaking slightly, but her stance was determined so Mark knew it was from the pain and not fear.

The bandit charged at her again. She stepped forward into him and bent to the right as he swung. The axe grazed her left shoulder and she yelped but her sword flashed upwards at his ribs. It bit into his midsection and his momentum caused him to fall forward along the blade. Lyn kept moving past him and he tripped and fell sprawling into the dirt. She skidded to a stop, spun quickly, gasped, and ran at him. Mark stepped aside as he saw a mix of pain and determination in her expression. The bandit boss attempted to roll over and raise his axe to defend himself, but Lyn was too quick. She brought her sword down in a stab and hit him underneath the arm.

"Blast..." he said with a cough. "Only...supposed to be the...lone girl." His eyes shut. Lyn stepped back and fell to one knee, her sword driving into the ground as support. Mark rushed over to her and put her arm around his shoulder to keep her steady. He reached into her pack which had fallen to the ground and handed her the vulnerary that still remained. She took it and drank. Mark looked around and saw that the knights were riding towards them.

"Th-thank you, Mark," said Lyn. "I think that's the last of them. Good work. And...thank you."

"Let's get you back on your feet," he said as he tried to ignore the heat in his cheeks from her praise. He knew why he was getting flustered by it, of course, but he couldn't allow it to distract him. He barely knew her, so he certainly couldn't call his feeling anything more than attraction yet. Best to let it sit until he was more sure. He stood slowly and brought her with him. Once he thought she was steady he let her arm drop and allowed her to stand on her own again. He assumed her pride wouldn't allow her to accept help for long.

The knights reached them and dismounted together. They took the reins of their respective horses and walked them slowly to where Lyn and Mark were standing. Lyn and Mark walked towards them to put some distance between themselves and the fallen bandit leader. Lyn was the one who spoke first.

"You were going to tell me your story?" she said, specifically focusing on Kent.

"Indeed," he said. "My compatriot and I have come here from Caelin in Lycia in search of someone. We were given orders to act as messengers to the Lady Madelyn, the Marquess' daughter, who eloped with a nomad some nineteen years ago." Mark saw the light of recognition in Lyn's face and thought he had a guess as to the identity of this Lady Madelyn.

"Did you say Madelyn?" asked Lyn.

"Yes. She was, as I said, the Marquess' only daughter. He was devastated when she left him behind. He took to declaring that he had no daughter simply to cope with the pain of losing her at such a young age." Sain eagerly cut off his partner.

"We received a letter from her earlier this year. It was a simple letter informing the Marquess that the lady was living happily on the plains with her husband and daughter, now a woman grown." Lyn's expression smoothed out into a neutral mask, which Mark thought the knights didn't notice, or else simply didn't react. "The Marquess was overjoyed to learn he had a granddaughter. He sent us to find his daughter and granddaughter, a woman named Lyndis, the same as the Marquess' late wife." Lyn's expression never changed.

"Lyndis?"

"Indeed. It was the name that changed the Marquess' heart. He thought that his daughter left because she hated him, but to learn that she had given her daughter that name showed him the error of his thinking. Now his greatest wish is to at least be allowed to meet his daughter's family once." Sain's face fell. "...However, we learned recently that Lady Madelyn passed soon after sending her letter." Lyn's expression remained as neutral as before, but Mark noticed that she shifted her weight in his direction, stopping just short of taking a step towards him.

"We have also learned that her daughter still lives," said Kent. "We heard that she lives alone on the plains." He paused to collect himself. "...I knew it as soon as I saw you, milady. You are the Lady Lyndis." Lyn shook her head.

"Why would you think that?" Even without his obvious confidence in his statement, the quaver in her voice would have given her away.

"Your grandfather kept portraits of his daughter in the castle. Your resemblance to her is remarkable." Lyn looked away and towards Mark, took in a breath, and looked back.

"To my tribe, I was always Lyn. But when it was only me and my parents...they always called me Lyndis in private." She closed her eyes and once again Mark wanted to reach out and put a hand on her shoulder, but thought better of it. "This is all so strange," she said after a moment. "I was all alone, and now you tell me I have a grandfather." Mark wanted to tell her that she wasn't alone. She had him, but he had only known her a day. "I never thought I would hear that name again. Oh! The bandit called me Lyndis as well!"

"But how could he have—" Kent started before he was cut off by Sain.

"He must have been a henchman of Lord Lundgren."

"The Marquess' younger brother," said Kent when he noticed the confusion on Lyn's face. "He became the heir to the Marquess' throne once it was learned that Lady Madelyn was killed."

"To be blunt, your existence is an obstacle to Lundgren's ambitions. It's likely he sent bandits after you to silence you," said Sain.

"But I don't care to inherit any title!"

"Your granduncle likely won't believe that," said Sain. "He will likely continue attempting to kill you."

"What do you think I should do about it?" she asked, still mostly looking at Kent.

"Accompany us to Caelin. Staying on your own is dangerous." She looked to Mark.

"What do you think?" He could see that she was reluctant, possibly she even wanted him to say no, but he didn't see any other options. He shrugged.

"I think it's safest to stay with them. If there really will be attempts on your life...well, I know I can't protect you." It stung him to say it, but it was true. All he could do was offer guidance, and she was only one warrior. She shook her head in frustration.

"I...feel I have no choice. We'll go with you." Kent nodded and Sain beamed. "Please," she said, "give us a moment alone." Kent nodded again and guided the other man and their horses away over Sain's weak protests. Once they were out of earshot Lyn looked directly at Mark and sighed. "Mark...I'm sorry. This...it changes everything. If I'm going with them, well, what do you think you're going to do now?" Mark shifted his weight back and forth from one foot to the other.

"I think you should decide," he said. "If you want me to, say the word and I'll stay with you." He enjoyed her company greatly, but ultimately he didn't want to stay with him if she didn't want it. And besides, her answer would give him a better idea of what she thought of him.

"Me?" She blinked once. "Well of course having you with me would ease the journey, but..." he thought he saw her shiver a little. "Mark, it's going to be so dangerous. I don't want anything to happen to you." Without thinking he put a hand on her upper arm and squeezed gently. She jumped a little at his touch, but didn't pull away.

"If being there will make your journey easier, then I'll be there with you." He smiled what he hoped was a reassuring smile at her. "I'm your master strategist, right? I can't leave my peerless warrior by herself." She beamed at him and, once again, lunged forward to pull him into a hug. This one lasted longer than the previous one, but only by a moment.

"Thank you so much, Mark!" Her smiled faded slightly and she turned so that she had her back completely to the knights, who were far enough away that Mark assumed they couldn't hear regardless. "I...honestly don't know what I would have done if you didn't want to stay. Thank you." He smiled at her once more.

"I wouldn't have left you," he said, "but I do need to ask you something."

"Anything," she said as she relaxed her posture and let her shoulders sag.

"Now that I've heard of your origins, well..." he paused to ensure that what he was about to ask wouldn't sound rude and continued as politely as he could "...would you prefer I call you Lyndis?" She grabbed his hand in both of hers.

"No," she said with a small smile. She leaned in and he thought she looked like a young girl inviting him to share a salacious piece of gossip. "If all the Lycians we meet are going to call me Lyndis, then I want _you_ to keep calling me Lyn."

"Alright then, Lyn," he said. As he often had in the last few days, he found himself smiling at her. It felt good. "Let's go get our journey underway."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say how obnoxious it is that neither this site nor FF allow you to make the prologue it's own chapter and force you to start at Chapter 1 even though there are literally thousands of stories that have a prologue before chapter 1?


	3. Chapter 3

Mark remained largely silent on their journey to the shrine nearby. It gave him the opportunity to learn more about Lycia from Sain, who was more than happy to talk endlessly about his homeland, its political situation, and his many conquests of the fair women of Caelin. Mark suspected most of them were imagined, but he allowed it anyway. The majority of his spoken words on the trip were to ask Lyn for directions or to check on the status of their supplies.

They didn't run into any trouble on the way to the shrine itself. Whether it was the presence of two armed and armored knights and their powerful horses or simply that there were no bandits in that area didn't matter to Mark. All that mattered to him was that Lyn was, for the time being, safe.

It transpired that the length of their trip was measured in hours rather than days, and the reached the outskirts of the shrine before the sun began to set. Once they came into view of the shrine and Sain had, for now, run out of things to say, Mark turned to Lyn. She had been walking next to him for the entire journey, putting Mark in between her and the knights.

"Tell me about this shrine," he said to her.

"It's a shrine to one of our gods. It houses a sacred sword that the people of Sacae pray over for safety before a long journey." Her voice was nostalgic. Mark guessed that this was a tradition she had been told of by her parents and it brought up memories of them.

"Oh, what a quaint custom!" said Sain. Mark bit back a groan and flashed him a look to try to quiet him. If Sain noticed he didn't respond.

"The teachings of St. Elimine have the most followers in Elibe, and especially in Lycia," said Kent quickly. Mark expected he was trying to cut off any offense caused by Sain's words. "It is nice to see there are still places where the ancient customs are observed." Further discussion was interrupted as an older woman came rushing up to them and stopped short in front of Lyn. The woman began to speak without waiting for anyone to greet her.

"Milady, are you headed east to the altar?" she said, clearly out of breath. Mark assumed that Lyn's dress and features gave her away as the only Sacaean of the small group, although he acknowledged that it was possible that he himself was Sacaean.

"We are indeed," said Lyn. "Is something amiss?"

"You must hurry and rescue the priest," said the woman as she grabbed Lyn's hands. "A band of local ruffians entered not long ago. There was shouting and I heard the sounds of a struggle. I think they intended to steal the sword!" Lyn balled her left hand into a fist and her right dropped to the hilt of her sword as the woman released them.

"I cannot allow this," she said firmly. She stepped forward but Kent spoke up before she could go rushing off.

"You should be prepared before you move, milady," he said. Lyn stopped short and looked at him. She seemed to be debating it in her mind, then she relaxed her stance and nodded. She looked to Mark.

"Mark, do you see the homes to the south?" Mark glanced that way and indeed saw several small homes dotting the landscape. "Should we go question the residents?" Mark looked around towards the altar, where he saw at least one bandit outside.

"Sain, go gather what information you can from the residents of the houses. Kent, go ride as far around the altar as you can and bring back whatever information you can on the bandits. Lyn, start making your way towards the altar. You see those old fallen stones there? Take cover near them. If any of the ruffians try to advance on you it may give some advantage." Mark pointed in succession at each of the indicated areas and swept his eyes around several more times. He didn't see anyone in plain view, but that meant very little. The altar itself was still, by his estimation, almost a half a mile away.

"What about you?" said Lyn, which brought Mark back to himself.

"I'm with you," he said. She nodded.

"You heard him," said Lyn. The knights saluted and charged off in their respective directions. Mark followed Lyn closely as they made their way to the fallen stones. One of the thugs, Mark noticed, started to approach them from outside the walls of the shrine. Mark wasn't sure where he got the confidence to face down three foes—four, he corrected himself by noting that he was a foe of the bandit as well—but he had it nonetheless. It didn't serve him especially well. Kent went charging past the bandit and swung his sword at the man on the way by. It caught him across the left shoulder which sent him stumbling backwards. He didn't have time to react because Kent was already rushing past him towards the outer walls of the shrine.

Lyn used the delay to get to the ruins and readied her weapon as the bandit recovered and advanced. He attempted to swing his axe at her but he couldn't get any power behind it between his injury and her position behind a cracked stone pillar. His axe bit into the pillar itself and stuck fast. It was his last mistake as Lyn retaliated.

Sain came galloping back to their position. His horse came a stop just short of Mark and it whinnied in Mark's face. He leaned back slightly at the force of the wind. Sain looked like he couldn't be more excited to share the news he had learned.

"There's a cracked and brittle section of the wall of the shrine!" said Sain. "We should be able to break it and get through without having to fight through the main of these rogues!" Mark looked towards the wall of the shrine, but if Sain was correct he couldn't tell. They were simply too far away from the wall to see any weaknesses.

"Let's advance," he said, "but we should meet up with Kent to decide what to do." Sain saluted him and rode off in the direction Kent had gone before Mark could protest. Mark turned to Lyn and shook his head. "Let's see if we can find the cracked section of wall at least."

"I hope he won't always be like this," she said. Mark nodded and the two of them advanced to the outer wall of the shrine. As they did they saw Kent and Sain galloping back towards them. The four met up about thirty feet from the shrine walls, where Mark did indeed see a section of wall that looked damaged.

"There is some hilly terrain to the south that shouldn't give you trouble, but is too uneven for our horses," said Kent. "I was going to recommend we dismount, but Sain has told me there is a section of wall we might be able to break through."

"Yes," said Mark as he pointed towards the wall, "I think that's it there. I see a crack running most of the way up and if you look closely you can see bits starting to fall off that section. See if your horses can do anything to it." He looked to Lyn. "Be ready to rush through if they can break a hole in the wall. It may be too small for their mounts so you'll be the first line against any thugs inside.

"Two more of the ruffians accounted for!" said Sain cheerfully as he arrived. "We have them on the run now!"

"Let's hope so," said Mark. Kent led his horse to the crack in the wall. The horse turned around and, at Kent's guidance, kicked the stone wall with its back legs. Mark heard the sound of metal striking stone as the horse's shoes made contact. A large section of the cracked wall broke away, leaving a hole large enough to see through but little else. Kent kicked his horse and it cantered away from the wall. Sain's horse was right behind it to take its turn. Sain spurred it into action and it kicked a spot to the left of the hole. The weakened wall exploded inward toward the shrine, leaving a space big enough for a man to fit through.

Lyn didn't wait. She rushed through the hole and engaged a thug who was waiting on the other side of the wall. Her sword clashed with the man's axe and Lyn was forced back a step by the man's superior strength. Mark ran in behind her to take stock of the situation inside the shrine.

To his left he saw a throne where a man who looked better groomed than the other thugs was pacing angrily with a sword in a scabbard in his hand. An old man was on the ground nearby. He looked hurt, but alive. To his right Mark saw another thug coming through the main door of the shrine. It appeared to him that only the three men were still alive among the thugs' initial number because no one else followed the man at the entrance.

Lyn clashed with the thug in front of her again and managed to get her sword past his guard. It struck him in the left arm which made him reel back in pain but didn't slow him for long. It was, however, long enough for Lyn to strike again and hit him in the upper thigh. He stumbled and fell to one knee, which left him open for Kent, now dismounted, to finish him off.

"Kent, Sain, the leader," said Mark. "Lyn, the other one coming from that way." He pointed to the man who was charging at them.

"On your orders," said Kent.

"If you're sure," said Lyn.

"I am." She nodded and turned away from the throne. Kent and Sain turned and rushed towards the leader on foot, lances at the ready. Mark heard the leader yell from behind him as the knights reached the throne.

"Who do you think you are? You think you can stop me?" Mark didn't turn to look because the other bandit reached Lyn's position. Lyn sidestepped his attack nimbly and lashed out to hit him in response. It bit into the cloth of the man's shirt, cut through it, and opened a cut along his midsection. The thug wasn't deterred and swung his axe sideways at Lyn's neck. She rolled out of the way but her leg caught and she fell flat. She began to scramble to regain her footing and raised her sword in defense. The thug didn't attack her.

He turned to Mark.

Mark felt his blood run cold as the thug advanced on him. He kept his eye on the man's weapon as he tried to think of a way to get out of danger. There were no support pillars to hide behind or easy ways to escape. He took a step back that the thug matched, then a step to one side. He tried to see if Lyn would be able to help him, but the thug was between him and her.

The thug struck with his axe. Mark let his instincts overtake him and he stepped backwards to try to avoid it. His foot caught on something and he felt himself falling. The axe flew past him and he felt it graze his outstretched arm which was followed by a lace of pain that was compounded as his head struck the carpeted stone. In a daze he looked up and saw the thug looming over him as he prepared for the end.

The end never came. The thug groaned and toppled to one side and Mark vaguely saw a hand offered to him. He took it and felt himself being dragged up to a sitting position. Lyn knelt next to him and offered him a vulnerary. She touched it to his mouth and he took a slow drink. His head started to clear and the pain in his arm began to recede. He looked at it and saw a cut that appeared long but shallow. He looked at Lyn. Her brow was furrowed and her eyes looked wide.

"Are you hurt? Mark, are you alright?" He nodded and she put his arm around her shoulder and lifted him to his feet.

"Thank you. You saved me," he managed.

"It's my fault," she said. "I should have been faster. You were hurt because of me. Because I wasn't..." Mark shook his head, partially to clear away the fog but mostly to disagree.

"It's not your fault. You saved me," he insisted. Mark heard the sound of booted footsteps and the two of them turned to see Kent approaching from the direction of the throne. Mark looked past them and saw the final thug motionless on the ground.

"Are either of you hurt?" asked Kent.

"Nothing that won't heal," said Mark as Lyn let him stand on his own. He wobbled slightly but regained his footing without falling over.

"The priest would like to speak to you, Lady Lyndis," said Kent. "Sain is with him now. I'll clear out the shrine." Lyn nodded.

"Mark, are you alright to come with me?"

"Of course," said Mark. She started towards where the priest was waiting but slowed enough for Mark to stay even with her.

"You are of the Lorca tribe, yes?" asked the priest as they approached. He was an old man with a thick mustache and a kindly face. His robes were simple and looked well worn. Mark expected that the man had spent most of his life as the priest of this shrine.

"My name is Lyn, I'm the chieftain's daughter," she said. "Are you hurt? Do you need our help?"

"Thanks to your intervention I'm unhurt," he said. "You have my deepest gratitude."

"What of the sword?" asked Lyn. "Did these men make off with it?"

"I have it here," said Sain. He was standing over the fallen thug leader holding the sword, still in its scabbard. "The man, Glass, as he called himself, was most irate that he couldn't draw it." Sain handed the sword back to the priest.

"The enchantment I put on it prevents it from being drawn." He murmured a few words and the scabbard burned with red symbols for a moment. He turned to Lyn and held the sword out to her in both hands. "You may lay hands upon the Mani Katti if you wish, as thanks for saving me. Touch its pattern and pray for safe travels."

"Thank you so much!" said Lyn. Mark had never heard of this particular practice and didn't know how important it was a part of Sacaean tradition, but he still smiled at how excited she was.

Lyn took the sword from the priest and began to draw it from the scabbard. As she did, the blade gave a sudden pulse of white light. Lyn was so surprised she nearly dropped the sword, but held onto it. The blade pulsed a second time and then began glowing steadily.

"What is this?" she asked the priest. "Does this usually happen?"

"It is the power of the spirits," said the priest gravely. "They have looked into your soul and they have called out to you."

"I don't understand," she said. The priest looked at her very seriously.

"You have been chosen," he said. "You are the rightful wielder of the Mani Katti." Lyn shoved the sword back into the scabbard and tried to give it back to the priest.

"I can't. I couldn't. There's no way." Her tone became increasingly emphatic as she spoke. The priest smiled a little.

"It is the sword's wish. If you need proof, draw it fully." He pushed the sword gently back to her. She took it nervously and tried to draw it. It came out immediately and started glowing in her priest's smiled widened a little. "I never thought I would meet the sword's owner in my lifetime. My family has overseen this shrine for generations. To think it would be me that saw it...take your sword, Lyn of the Lorca tribe."

"My...sword?" She was staring transfixed at the glowing blade. Mark understood why, The blade's light was enticing, as if beckoning him to look at it. He glanced over and saw that Sain was staring at it as well. The priest placed his hand on top of one of Lyn's.

"It is time for you to go, Lyn. You will face a great many trials in the coming days, I can feel it. Take this sword in your hand and face them head-on." Lyn looked at the priest, then at Mark. He smiled at her.

"Yes sir!" she said to the priest. She sheathed the sword and put it in the bag on her shoulder. The light winked out and the small group came back to themselves. Lyn nodded to the priest and said "Thank you." The three of them walked out the front of the shrine to where Kent was waiting. Mark looked back and saw the priest smile and nod once.

Once they were outside they met with Kent and retrieved the knights' horses. There was some hilly terrain outside of the shrine that was easy enough to traverse on foot but gave the horses some trouble and made the trip several extra minutes before they found themselves back on the main road they had come from. Apparently tired of the silence, Sain started talking.

"So that is the Mani Katti, the blade with no equal," he said. Lyn was holding it in her hands inspecting it as they walked. Twice she had nearly stepped into small potholes on the road in her distraction.

"This is...all so unbelievable," she said. "So much has happened in just the last day. And now the most famous sword in Sacae is in my hand..."

"It isn't so unusual," said Kent. "There are tales across the land of special or unique blades that call out to their proper owners. And that blade...clearly you were meant to draw it." Lyn shook her head emphatically.

"No! I'm nothing special," she said. "I'm just a girl."

"I don't know Lyn," said Mark, "I think he's right. The thug couldn't even draw the sword, let alone use it, and now you wield it like you've used it all your life." She shook her head again.

"Maybe...maybe you're right. This is difficult."

"Think of it this way," said Sain, "you feel more comfortable with certain weapons, right? Perhaps this sword simply feels more comfortable with you."

"I supposed I can understand that," said Lyn. She looked at Mark. "This is...my sword. A sword only I can wield. This is going to take some getting used to." That ended the conversation and the four of them began traveling to the southwest towards the border between Sacae and Bern. They had looked at a map and decided that the best route would take them through northern Bern and into Lycia near Caelin canton.

They passed Bulgar once more before they continued. Lyn decided they should stock up on vulneraries and food, which delayed them an hour. After that they departed Bulgar once more and traveled until night began to fall a few hours later. They set up camp, tied up the horses, ate their dinner, and bedded down for the night. Mark, fully recovered from his injuries, volunteered to take first watch. It was a cold night, so he sat by the fire and bundled himself up in his heavy robes.

The night was quiet and he had to fight to avoid falling asleep where he sat. They didn't expect trouble so far from the mountains, but he needed to stay alert anyway. If there were truly assassins after them, they could strike at any moment.

Perhaps two hours into his watch, Mark heard a rustling noise from behind him. He turned quickly and saw Lyn emerge from her tent. By the light of the fire he could just barely see her face as she approached and noticed that she was smiling.

"Can I sit next to you?" she asked. He nodded and she sat down.

"There's still some time until your watch," he said. "I would have come to wake you."

"I couldn't sleep," she said. "Today has been too overwhelming." She leaned forward to warm up her hands. Mark noticed that she was also in a heavier tunic than usual. He considered offering her his outer robe before he went back to his tent, but thought better of it.

"Understandable," he said. "Two battles, the sword, the knights...I'm surprised you're taking it all so well." She looked over at him then sighed and looked back at the fire.

"I'm not sure I am," she said. "There's been so much to deal with today. All of that, and I nearly let you down, Mark. I should have been there for you." Mark stood up and looked down at her as she looked up at him.

"No you didn't," he said. "You did all you could, and you saved my life. It's not your fault I got attacked."

"But I'm supposed to be your protector. It's what we agreed to. If I can't protect you, how can I hope to..." her voice trailed off.

"Wait here," Mark said gently. He walked back to his tent and fished around in the dark until he found what he was looking for. He put it under his arm and joined Lyn by the fire again. He said next to her and placed on his lap a small wooden board. "I bought this in Bulgar earlier. It's a strategy game I remember I used to play. We can play it together now."

"I...if you're sure," she said, a little confused.

"I am. Lyn, you need something else to focus on. What happened to me wasn't your fault." He started placing the pieces on the board but put his free hand on her arm. "I'm alright." She nodded slightly and watched him as he set the game up.

"You'll have to teach me how to play," she said. Her voice was even again. He nodded and spent the next few minutes going over the rules. Once she understood how the game worked they started playing. Mark noticed that she picked up on the game quickly and didn't make many mistakes common to newer players. She didn't talk during the game, so Mark didn't try to make conversation.

It took an hour and they had to build up the fire twice so they could see, but eventually Mark's superior knowledge and experience won out and he ended up taking her last piece. He started to put everything away when Lyn looked at him with a forlorn expression on her face. He stopped and put the game aside.

"What's wrong?" She looked down.

"Even here I couldn't protect my forces. I'm supposed to be your peerless warrior, and I can't fight one man." Mark moved a little closer to her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Of course I won this game. I'm supposed to be the master strategist, right? And like I've already said, it wasn't your fault."

"He overpowered me to get to you. He would have killed you."

"He didn't, because you saved me." He put a small emphasis on the word 'you' and hoped she understood. "Even if you've trained, you're still young and you can't expect to be perfect."

"But I have to be perfect," she said. "I have to be stronger. Have to protect you." He dropped his hand and put both hands together in front of the fire as he realized what he had failed to notice before.

"Lyn...what happened to the Lorca wasn't your fault. It's not your responsibility to protect everyone." He started to regret it after saying it. He knew he was being too familiar with her to say something so personal, but he couldn't help it. She looked up at him, her expression flat.

"It was, don't you see that? If I'd been stronger I could have saved them. I could have made them listen to me. I could have protected them. Protected my..." her voice broke and she looked away. If she was crying Mark couldn't see it. He touched her shoulder again and she leaned into it slightly. He leaned a little closer so he could lower his voice and still be heard.

"You're only one person, Lyn. There was nothing you could have done." She didn't answer, so he sat with her for a few minutes until she was ready to speak. She took some time, took a deep breath, and looked up at him.

"I know," she said. "I know. There are nights it's more difficult, but I know you're right." Mark stood up. He was having trouble staying awake, and he could tell that she needed space.

"I'll be here when it gets difficult," he said. "All you have to do is tell me." He expected she wouldn't under most circumstances, but she'd been a good friend to him so far and he owed it to her.

"...Thank you, Mark," she said. "I'll take the watch now. You can go to sleep."

"If you need me to stay, I will," he said. Even though he was already up and ready to leave he knew he'd sit back down if that's what she wanted.

"No, it's alright. Mark...you're a good friend, I want you to know that."

"Same to you," he said. She faced the fire and nodded.

"Good night."

"Good night, Lyn." And with that final word, he returned to his tent.


End file.
